


No Damn Good

by Whreflections



Series: Avengers/X-Men crossover verse [3]
Category: Marvel Avengers Movies Universe, X-Men (Movies)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Coming Out, Homophobia, Hurt Tony Stark, Infidelity, Lizards, M/M, implied possibly onesided past Steve/Bucky, relationship difficulties, seriously there are giant lizards
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-04
Updated: 2012-10-04
Packaged: 2017-11-15 15:05:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/528571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whreflections/pseuds/Whreflections
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Steve caught Tony cheating on him with a woman he's never even seen before, Steve's heartbroken and Tony's desperate to explain that it wasn't quite what it looked like, that he's fucked up, so fucked up, and he's sorry and sometimes he does really, really stupid things.  Steve wants to believe him, because he is stupidly, ridiculously in love with Tony, but he's hurt, and it's hard.  Also, there are giant panther chameleons on the Empire State Building.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Damn Good

**Author's Note:**

> So awhile back, I wrote this x-men crossover. It was supposed to be a oneshot. So many times, things I mean to be a oneshot just aren’t, lol So, this is the second follow up, the aftermath of what happens when Steve gets back home after trying to get drunk to forget he came home to find Tony cheating on him…X.X 
> 
> Also, I feel like my brain took LSD without my consent for the battle part of this. You'll see what I mean, lmao Discussing it with a friend of mine(who was, admittedly, drunk at the time) she said "I feel like I'm not going to know if this conversation was real tomorrow.", XD

_I know I’m the constant source of your frustration_

_But here I am again knocking at your door._

_I’m just no damn good, am I, baby?_

_I’m just no damn good,_

_I know it’s true_

_-No Damn Good, Gary Allan_  

 

Just like he’d expected, Tony was waiting right inside.  He was perched on the back of the nearest couch, one foot up on the armrest so he could lean on that leg as he anxiously turned Steve’s phone over and over in his hands.  At the sight of Steve in the doorway he lurched forward, and Steve held out his hand to stop him even though Tony was already talking. 

“You left your phone, that’s the one hard rule around here, you don’t fall off the grid, you know that, you-“

 “Tony, don’t.”  Of all the things he didn’t want to hear, how much Tony had worried absolutely fell somewhere on the list.  As far as he was concerned, you gave up the right to worry like a lover when you couldn’t even be faithful to the person you were supposedly worried about.  He stretched his arm out, right hand still jammed in the pocket of his coat.  “Give me that.” 

 Tony was moving like an overeager puppy, all jolts and frantic clumsiness, and though getting the phone into Steve’s hand shouldn’t have been a feat he almost dropped it twice. 

 “Look, I know you’re furious at me, _I’m_ furious at me, and I have no excuse, I’m not trying to make-“

 “Tony,-“  Even saying his name hurt, a kind of stinging burn that stayed in his throat.  “-you have no idea how much I don’t want to talk about this right now.  I _cannot_ talk to you about this right now.  What’s done is done, just let me go to bed.”  Maybe if he could get upstairs in the dark and quiet he could clear his head.  More likely he’d just see it all again in too bright color, memories made all the more vivid by a Tony-less bed and the way he’d grown so used to never having to sleep alone. 

 Tony tried to reach for him, almost made it all the way to Steve’s wrist but he kept stopping himself, his hand a twitching mess like it couldn’t decide if the risk was worth the potential gain.  He settled for holding back, and Steve was grateful because he wasn’t sure how he’d have responded to Tony’s hands on him just then. 

 “Steve, please, _please_ , hear me out, alright?  Let me talk and then you can totally punch me, or I mean, you could do that now and then I could talk, I don’t care either way.  I mean, punching probably needs to happen soon because I know I-“

 The words hurt more than he’d have ever expected, and after the night he’d had that was just the last straw.  It was one thing for Tony to cheat on him, one horrible, shattering thing, but it was another entirely for him to try to fix it with words that make it clear no matter what good Steve might’ve thought he’d been doing, Tony still didn’t really understand him. 

 His hand shot out to grab Tony’s wrist, turning him with it before slamming him back up against the wall of the hall he’d been trying to escape down.  Tony hit just hard enough that for a second the air rushed out of him, and though Steve at first braced his forearm against Tony’s chest out of habit, the feel of Tony’s hastily buttoned shirt against his skin felt too much like a burn for him to keep it there.  Still, even without current restraint, he’d had Tony pinned and now he had his attention. 

 “What have I _ever_ done that makes you think I’d hit you?”  The thought was repulsive enough that it almost shook everything away, definitely brought a whole new kind of sick taste to his mouth.  He’s met men like that before, men who hit their girls because they said too much or too little or for some slight either imagined or real, and even before the serum _those_ were the kind of people he’d take a swing at.  Tony’s certainly not a woman, but that doesn’t make it different because Tony is(was?  God, he’s not sure.) his lover,  his partner, and raising a hand against someone you’re meant to protect is an inviolate rule in his book.  The fact that Tony would even consider he would felt like a whole other level of betrayal. 

 Still pressed against the wall as if Steve was still holding him there, Tony’s eyes were downcast, his tongue flicking out to hesitantly wet his lips. 

 “You _should_.”

 He looked so damn lost, disheveled shirt hanging off his shoulders and the scent of whiskey mixed with perfume was all over him and even so, that defeated, rounded set to his shoulders and the way he bowed his head just made him look like a little boy.  Steve _hated_ it, hated it because it made him think of old questions about Howard he’d probably never have answered, because Tony didn’t have a _right_ to look like this when he was the one who’d fucked up.  Sometimes, Steve wished he didn’t have quite so much empathy. 

 "Tony, look at me.”  Not the best idea, really, because those beautiful brown eyes were so often his undoing on a _good_ day.  The pull they held like _that_ , the look that seemed like Tony’s soul was cracking open before him…

 Steve swallowed hard, took a deliberate step back to put some space between them. 

 “I don’t believe in that.  I don’t believe you use that kind of force on someone you-“  _Love._ That was it exactly, what he’d believed since he was a kid.  “I’m not gonna hit you, Tony, and the fact that you think I could-“

 “Fuck, Steve, no, it’s not like that, it’s nothing against you I just, Jesus, _I’d_ hit me right now, I’m a wreck and seeing what you did with Vera-“

 “Oh, she has a name?  Clint said some of the tabloids just use hair color and number.”  Even as it slipped out, he was a little shocked at his own quick thinking. 

 Tony flinched, hands reaching up to self-consciously tug the neck of his shirt a little farther closed.  He could tell Tony was about to start his rambling again, and despite how much he hadn’t wanted to even see Tony when he came in the door, he’d known it was going to come to this, and he let the question that had been burning in his chest ever since he’d come home slip out. 

 “ _Why_ , Tony?  I thought this actually meant something to you, I thought-” 

 “That’s exactly the problem!”  For a genius, Tony could’ve won a shocking amount of awards for not making a lick of sense.  He scrubbed his hands through his hair, his hands fidgety like they always were when they had nothing concrete to do.  “I’m an idiot, I’m a mess and I’m an idiot and seriously, there is a reason I don’t have relationships.  I mean Pepper, _Pepper_ didn’t work out and she knew everything going in so really that’s just all kinds of disturbing.  She knew when to cut her losses but you, you just keep at it and I keep thinking every time I-“  For a heartbeat his eyes met Steve’s, the look in them just short of wild.  “I’m a fucking nightmare, Steve, and I have no right to think this could ever work, but it keeps working and lately I just keep feeling like I’m running out of points I expected you to duck and run.  So I was drunk, I was ridiculously drunk and I thought, if I could still bring home a girl then maybe it wasn’t too late, maybe-“

 “You are not _seriously_ trying to tell me you slept with a woman because you have feelings for me.   Tell me that’s not what you’re saying, because even expecting conversations with you to be maddening, that’s too much.” 

 “Look, I realize this sounds crazy, I know it’s all kinds of crazy, but at the time I thought, if I could still bring myself to do it, I’d still…I’d still have something when this falls apart.” 

 “And apparently, that worked out for you just fine.”  His ribs felt like a bear trap against his lungs, sharp and constricting closer the deeper breaths he tried to take.  The step he took down the hall carried no conviction, slow despite the nagging thought that he needs to get out of there, he’s got to get out of there before he does something _really_ stupid. 

 Tony blocked him easily, sidestepping to keep himself in front, keep his body between Steve and the stairs.  “That’s just it, though, it didn’t.  It was all wrong, it-“

 “Sure looked like things were going just fine to me.”

 “I swear to God, I was gonna ask her to leave right after, even drunk as I was earlier, which, less drunk now, but still, I was gonna ask her to leave and that was it, that’s it, just me and you now.  That’s all I want.”  Tony’s thumb rubbed over his fingers, right hand flexing as he contemplated once again reaching out.  Usually it was Steve that took his hand, used it to drag Tony away from his workbench and to the kitchen for some breakfast when he’d been up all night or held it between both of his as they watched a movie on the couch with the others.  For a long time now he’d been itching to do the same in public, to thread his fingers through Tony’s even in the suit as they stood together triumphant in the aftermath of some almost destruction, but Tony had never wanted it, had said it wasn’t safe, not with the way the world was.  Sometimes, he couldn’t believe everything had changed so much only to have a handful of important things change so very little. 

 Just then he couldn’t do it, couldn’t reach out to give Tony the opening he was looking for, and Tony shoved his hand into the back pocket of his jeans. 

“Just me and you, Cap.  I swear.  I’m so sorry, I can’t even tell you, I-“

 “Tell me this, Tony, were you gonna tell me when I came home about your little revelation?”  No, he knew the answer was no, knew it had to be.  Even so, the way Tony swallowed hard when he asked dragged his heart a little lower.  “Right.  I didn’t think so.”  

“What do you want me to say, Steve?  What good would telling you have done at that point?  I can’t fix it now, I can’t undo it, believe me, I wish I could.  I fucked up, and I’m sorry, you’ve gotta believe me.  It’s just you, I don’t think at this point there could ever be anyone else for me, I-“

 “ _Tony_.  Stop.”  Just then, it doesn’t matter that something to that effect is all he’s waited to hear.  Everything still felt too raw, too scraped up and ripped apart and all the trust he’d built in this man felt like it had scattered to the wind.  Underneath all that pain, though, he was still in love with Tony, painfully in love because it wasn’t the kind of thing he could just turn off.  Hearing those words from Tony’s lips was enough to wreak havoc on the tiny bits of sanity he might have left.  He couldn’t believe, and he desperately wanted to, and all of it was coalescing into an exhausting mix of pain and anger and desire and hope. 

 He rubbed the bridge of his nose hard, unable to shake the feeling that his head should be hurting more than it was.  Sometimes, the effects of the serum still took him by surprise. 

 “I can’t believe you right now.  It doesn’t matter how sorry you are, it doesn’t even matter if I _want_ to believe you because right now, the only thing I’m absolutely sure of is the fact that I thought I could trust you, and I was wrong.  I told you I can’t talk about this right now for a reason.”

 “Steve,-“

 “Trust me, Tony, this is _not_ a decision you want me to make right now.”  Because if he had to decide their future right at that moment, no matter what he wanted, the foremost thought in his mind is that if he can’t trust Tony, they can’t have a future. 

 “And later?” 

 “Later is…something I won’t know about until we get there.”

 “Steve, I don’t know what-“

 “I need some time, alright?  I need some time, and I need it away from you.” 

 For the first time since he came in, Tony didn’t even try to speak.  His nod was barely perceptible, more a defeated shrinking drop of his head than actual conscious movement, and he finally stayed stock still to let Steve pass him.  The stairs felt longer than he remembered, his boots heavier on the wood, though halfway up he still heard Tony’s soft whisper carry from the hall.

 “That’s not a ‘no’.” 

 “No.  It’s not.  Not yet.” 

 

 

 

 ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Right after he woke up from the ice, Steve still slept like an army man.  If he wasn’t on a mission he went to bed early and he got up early, went for  a run even though he didn’t need the exercise, boxed in the gym to give himself time to think before he even thought about getting himself breakfast.  It changed a little after the team formed because breakfast became a priority, one of those team bonding moments he couldn’t afford to miss.  It wasn’t just that he wanted them all to be a family(though he did, absolutely), it was that being their captain was one of the greatest honors of his life. 

 Rescuing Bucky held first place for that and always would; Bucky had saved his ass a thousand times and the rush of being able to return that favor was something that would never be surpassed, but still, this position was close.  He took his duty seriously, went at it with all the fervor he could.  A good captain didn’t just know battle strategies, and he didn’t just know the strengths and weakness of his men.  They were his charges and his friends, his family.  The best captains were the best because of the strength of the bond of love and respect they had with those under their command, not for any military genius they possessed.  If he was going to lead them they had to be his priority in every way, and when he moved into the mansion with them his life had changed accordingly. 

 He made sure they ate meals together(when they could), practiced together(even if they protested), and had fun together(even if their first game night had been a disaster because Thor didn’t understand Clue and Tony cheated).  It was so different for him, a real family for the first time in his life, and it was the kind of good that only got better when he got up the nerve to kiss Tony one day in his workshop.  Tony had brought him down to a show him a new bike he’d been working on for Steve, with all the style of the 40’s and all the toys Stark Industry had to offer, and it had to have taken Tony God only knew how many hours to make it that amazing but he’d only shrugged, said he’d wanted to do that one personally.  Before he quite realized it, Steve had Tony against his chest and Tony was making these soft, whimpering noises into his mouth and he realized with a jolt that he’d never felt arousal like _that_ in all his life.  He’d been drawn to beautiful women, and a handful of initially confusing times to certain men; he’d felt want and need and desire and though he’d never indulged, he thought he knew those things. 

 He’d always said he was waiting for the right one, and he was, but what he’d never realized was just how deeply that right one would make everything different.  With Tony, everything was more than he’d expected.  That first kiss set a burn in him that carried the sweetest kind of pain, a sharp tug in his belly like the pull of claws trying to draw him into Tony until there was nothing separate left.  He’d always wanted marriage, wanted that kind of promise and commitment and the act of standing up in front of everyone he loved to claim the one he loved the most, but he already knew enough of Tony from the beginning to fear Tony’d never let them go that far.  He shelved that dream, quieted the voice in his head with the feel of Tony’s rough fingers against his back, the reverent way his name sounded on Tony’s lips.  It had only taken him an instant to decide that Tony was worth the compromise, a certainty so quick that he knew it had to have been lying dormant in him for quite some time, building every day he fought side by side with this man, every night he came home to him. 

 He’d chosen Tony, and no matter what Tony thought of himself, it felt like a miracle that Tony had chosen him, that he let Steve hold him down and take him, that he leaned into Steve’s hand on his cheek with the faceplate flipped up on the suit like the touch alone was enough to begin to rebuild him.  On a level even the team didn’t reach he’d made Tony his life, and Tony’s absence dragged on him like a physical weight.

 That first night he went back to his room, the old one he hadn’t used for months.  His bed was made just the way he’d left it, never changed because when he’d lived in there he’d always insisted on taking care of those things himself, thinking it ridiculous that Tony had staff for something a person should just naturally do.  The sheets were cold, and he lay there for a while unnerved by the dark before he realized it was the light of the arc reactor he missed, the dim blue glow his eyes had grown so accustomed to.  He’d learned to sleep on Tony’s patterns too, waking up around three or four when Tony came up from the workshop and staying up with him for a while, making love and falling asleep tangled up in each other. 

 The night before he’d left on that last mission Tony’d made it upstairs a little early, and he’d woken up at two to the feel of Tony’s tongue against his cock, sinfully hot as lapped in slow strokes.  Tony’s mouth on him was something that still had the power to make Steve blush, a throwback to a time when such an act was something more expected of a prostitute than a lover.  Tony, Tony fell to his knees for him like it was nothing, moaned around him like the taste of Steve on his tongue was something he ached for rather than something he did for Steve’s sake.  It was intoxicating, and though he’d learned how to last longer, the first time he’d come at the very first sound of pleasure from Tony’s throat.  His body trembled with the aftershocks and the rush that overtook him as Tony slid up to lay on top of him and let him feel what Steve did to him, feel the press of the hard line of arousal that had come from what he’d done. 

 Alone, that last night dominated his thoughts.  He could still feel Tony between his legs beneath the sheets, one hand gentle against his thigh as he spread them wider, hear the rough warmth in his voice after, between kisses. 

 “Don’t think that was your going away present; it wasn’t.  I’ve never understood the concept of that, why give someone a present for leaving unless you want them to go?  Fuck, it’s like celebrating their disappearance, it’s crazy, it’s-“  His hand had wrapped around Tony’s cock then, and he’d dissolved into nothing but sound. 

 Every time his memory got that far, he couldn’t help but wonder what sounds he made for _her_ , if he came for her, if she saw how he looked with his head thrown back as the pleasure took him.  Part of him kept thinking that it was stupid to dwell on it, stupid to wonder because a hundred girls saw him like that before Steve came into his life, but the voice he can’t shake whispered _not like this_ and _it was different before_ and sometimes, _they can’t know, it’s different with us_. 

 He felt sure of that, sure of the magic and the impossibility that anyone could ever fit with either of them the way they fit together, but he can’t feel sure of anything with Tony anymore. 

 He finally dragged himself up, long after light had filled the room under shades he hadn’t bothered to draw down.  It was practically afternoon and he was half starving and half disinterested in even the thought of food, and he went first to the gym instead of the kitchen.  He’d hope to burn off some of the pain with a few punches like he had when he first came to this time, but once he got there all he could think about was Tony slouched up against the wall the night before, broken and hurting and telling Steve how he should hit him, how he’d be justified.  After that, the urge to hit anything at all faded right out of him. 

 He wandered through the kitchen long enough to snag a granola bar and a glass of milk, followed the hallways almost all the way to Banner’s lab before he realized Tony might be there, then almost out to the balcony on the third floor before he remembered that Jane was visiting and in all the mansion, that was her favorite place.  She was probably out there with Thor, and even if he hadn’t been fairly sure they wouldn’t want to be disturbed, he wasn’t at all sure he was ready to tell Thor what had happened. 

 He had just started to think another long walk through the city might be his best choice when he heard heels clicking on the hardwood behind him, and he turned around to see Pepper.  Her work clothes had been exchanged for jeans and a t-shirt that was probably a souvenir Tony brought her, thin and grey and sporting flowing white letters that told him it was from the Hard Rock Café in Moscow.  She had two coffees in her hands, and the minute he turned back to her she held one out to him. 

 “Hey.  Thought you might could use a friend.  Or, at least a coffee, if you don’t want to talk, believe me I completely understand.“

 “No, no talking actually might…thank you.”  The cup warmed fingers he hadn’t even realized felt so cold, and he took a sip without hesitation.  God, he loved modern coffee.  They’d thought he’d complain at first, or at least Tony had, that he’d say it was too much sugar or too many flavors but he didn’t have a problem with Starbucks in the slightest.  Black coffee had its place and he could still drink it just fine, but if he had a choice between that and salted caramel, he’d pick that every time.  It reminded him of being a boy, of cracker jacks and Halloween, and he took another sip before he looked back up at Pepper.  Smiling, she beckoned him toward her. 

 “Come on, Cap.  Let’s get out of here.” 

 The mansion was situated on the fringes of the city, close enough it wasn’t hard to hop a cab to get into midtown(or fly there, as happened more often) but far enough that they were mostly surrounded by houses and families, and rather than grabbing a cab for the city, Pepper led him into the neighborhoods.  The wind was cold, the trees practically all bare to herald the rapid coming of December, and when he held his arm out to Pepper so she could tuck in close to his side she murmured her thanks. 

 Three blocks over, he finally managed to get the first burning question over with. 

 “How’s Tony?” 

 The breath Pepper let out sounded positively dangerous, and not for the first time he couldn’t help but think that just like Natasha, this was a woman he’d never, ever want to cross. 

 “Tony is Tony.  He’s handling his own fuck up with all the grace that can be expected, which explains why I got a call at seven this morning that began with him telling me he’d ruined everything and ended with me hanging up.”  She sighed, shaking her head.  “I came in to see him.  By the time I got there he was working on the suit and out of his ‘oh God help me Pepper’ phase and into his ‘I’m an angry drunk bastard’ phase, and considering I was mad enough at him already, I didn’t feel like dealing with that one.  That was a few hours ago, but far as I know he’s possibly still drinking, probably still working, and definitely still downstairs because he made it pretty clear he wasn’t going back up there.”

 It probably shouldn’t have hurt.  It wasn’t that he had trouble holding onto the anger; that was still there.  It was more that even then, even angry, Tony was still the top of his worry list, the thing he most wanted to shelter and protect in a world full of things he did his damn best to protect.  Somehow, Tony had become his center. 

 “I keep telling him he has to take better care of himself.  He’s reckless, not just on missions but all the time, he-  Sorry.  I know you know all this, probably way better than I do.”

 “I do, but sometimes it’s nice to hear it coming out of someone else’s mouth instead of just being endlessly parroted out of mine.”  For a second her head rested against his shoulder, maybe to draw his strength or to give him hers but either way, it was welcome.  “Steve, he loves you.  He really, really loves you.” 

 His jaw clenched so tight it ached, his whole body tensing in the effort it took to keep his heart from racing.  _He loves me, Tony loves me, if anyone knows she has to, it has to be true._ He swallowed bitterly, barely resisted the urge to mutter out loud that he had to get a hold of himself.  He wasn’t a child, and it wasn’t that simple. 

 “He tell you this?”

 “Please, he’d never have to.  I know what Tony in love looks like, and this is off the charts.”  With as easy as their friendship came now, sometimes it was easy to forget that once upon a time it had been more between the two of them, that not too long before he’d met Tony it had been Pepper sharing his life and his bed.  “Do you know why Tony and I broke up?” 

 He’d heard the story, told in the shower after a mission where Pepper’d nearly taken a gunshot and Tony had needed an hour of steaming hot water before the shivers that shook him would loosen. 

 “He said he couldn’t bear to lose you, and if it had gone on any longer he might have.  He said he didn’t want to be responsible for driving you away, so it seemed better to let you go while he still could.” 

 “Mm, yes and no.  The thing to understand about Tony is that he has no frame of reference for people that don’t screw him over.  Literally, none.  I mean, at this point he really should because there’s me and Rhodey and now all of you, but the everything he’s got in him still tells him not to trust in that.  He’s absolutely convinced his ability to drive anyone that gets too close away is undefeatable.  The closer you get to him he more he pushes back, except with me he’s gotten _tired_ of pushing back because I didn’t follow the anticipated pattern.  I did, though, agree that we should break up, but not so much because I was afraid he was right about him driving me away, just that I was afraid of what he could do to himself, of how much of that I could survive up that close.  I let him go, honestly because I think I love Tony too much to marry him.  If nothing else I’d go to an early grave from worry and he’d be left alone and frankly I don’t think he’d make it a week, but that isn’t exactly the point.” 

 As she talked her walk had slowed, more focus shuffling from her feet on the cracked sidewalk to her words, and finally she stopped entirely, still held tight to Steve’s arm as she half turned him to make him look at her.

 “Tony screwed up, last night.  He’s good at that, but the fact that the form it took was him falling into bed with some woman whose eye color he probably couldn’t even tell you is kind of irrelevant.  I don’t doubt seeing it was horrible, but all in all Tony’s a shockingly loyal creature and that’s probably not something that ever could or would happen again.  Once he’s in something, he’s in it; as far as I know he never cheated on me once and believe me, I’d know.  JARVIS loves me.”  The ghost of a smile flitted across her lips, and her fingers squeezed gently at his arm.  “The question you need to find an answer to isn’t whether you can forgive Tony for this, not really.  I mean, not saying that isn’t important, but honestly-and I realize it might be hard to believe this right now-Tony will give himself more hell over that than you ever could.  He is unbelievably good at innumerable forms of self-destruction, and that’s exactly the problem.  I was terrified Tony was going to burn himself out, maybe in some twisted move to protect me from himself or maybe for another reason entirely, but I was always half sure it was coming.  _That’s_ the part of Tony you need to find out if you can handle, and…I know it’s none of my business-“

 “Of course it is.”  He couldn’t help it, hated to interrupt her but couldn’t resist slipping in the reminder that yes, her opinion was wanted, and not just because she was Tony’s ex-girlfriend.  She was a friend, extended family in a way through her position at Stark Industries, and he’d never mind her advice, certainly not about the one subject she knew most about. 

 “You really are the sweetest human being alive, you know that?”  Another gentle squeeze on his arm and they were walking again, Pepper tugging him forward down the sidewalk, stepping over tree roots.  “It’s just that, I think you have a chance, with him.  All I ever do for Tony is patch his wounds once they’re there.  Even when we were together, I never had a better rate of success than that.  You, he’s different with.  One look from you and he doesn’t just apologize for working on a bomb in the basement, he puts it down.  No one’s ever held that kind of power over him, and if you keep at it…if anyone’s ever had a solid shot at fixing him, I think it’s you.  That’s all I wanted to say.  Well…” 

 With a last sip at her own coffee cup, she stopped to pitch it in a trashcan, smiling as the squirrel sitting on top of it flailed on his way to jump off.  “That, and I’m so sorry.  Sometimes, the man’s impossible and I can’t imagine how you’re feeling.” 

 They walked on, drifted into talk about the mansion and recent missions and Pepper’s desire to get a cat that she tried to keep shoving back because she didn’t think she spent enough time at home.  By the time they got back to the mansion it was late afternoon, and though he was grateful for the distraction, everything she’d given him to think about was filling up what felt like every inch of space in his mind. 

 The thought of Tony loving him was one thing, that he might actually be _good_ for Tony, that was holding a damn carrot out in front of him, gleaming and fresh. 

 He hadn’t even made it one day and already his decision to not yet decide was wavering, hard. 

 When he found Tony he wasn’t really looking, was mostly on his way to the kitchen for a sandwich but there he was, scrunched up asleep on the couch.  It was the sleep of the exhausted like Tony’s sleep almost always was, like he’d run until he fell to the floor, like a crazed kitten.  He was still in the clothes from last night, still hadn’t showered, and when he asked JARVIS in a low voice, JARVIS confirmed that no, he hadn’t eaten either.  He’d had coffee, whiskey, a Red Bull, and more coffee, all since Steve had gone upstairs the night before. 

 Their favorite blanket wasn’t far, draped over the shorter side of the L shaped couch and Steve went to automatically, ignored the twinge in his heart that came at the feel of the soft blanket against his fingers.   He knew how this one felt against his bare skin, how it draped over both of them to keep them covered as he slowly rocked into Tony in the early hours of the morning.  Tony’s approximation of soft cries were rarely soft, and Steve had tried to keep catching Tony’s lips with his own to muffle them, ineffective “Shhhh, Tony” ‘s coming out in whispers inbetween. 

 It felt wrong to drape it over Tony alone but he did it anyway, chose it over the others out of affection or nostalgia or habit, or maybe, maybe because he wanted Tony to wake up under it and know he’d been there.  In his sleep Tony shifted into it, nestling in and getting comfortable.  His palm brushed Tony’s cheek as he tucked the blanket in high over his shoulders, and Tony hummed something unintelligible, something warm and content and enough to make Steve’s eyes sting. 

 He wouldn’t wake him, not now, and really he knew logically that time was still something he needed, that even if laying down and taking Tony into his arms was everything he _wanted_ , he wasn’t quite ready for it.  Still, even if he knew he shouldn’t follow through on it, as he walked back upstairs he comforted himself with the thought that maybe when Tony woke up tomorrow, they’d talk again. 

 

 

 

 ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

At three in the morning, Steve’s phone vibrated underneath his pillow.  He’d hoped there it would wake him if it rang, hadn’t even cared how crazy that might seem, but he’d only been spottily sleeping anyway and when he felt and heard it go off, he was wide awake. 

 He tugged it out, rolled over onto his back to squint into the darkness at the too bright screen.  

**I know, I know I’m supposed to be leaving you alone, but I feel like you can’t make a fair and unbiased opinion if you don’t have all the facts, right?  I think Dummy misses you.**

He wasn’t even done reading that before the second came through. 

**Alright, I know that sounds ridiculous, fuck it.  He probably does, but he also misses that little alien rat we had living in here for a month so I don’t exactly trust his judgment.  I, however, miss you like all hell.  Just thought you should know that; should’ve had the balls to say that first.**

His thumb hovered over the touch screen, contemplating either a reply or shoving it back under his pillow to wait till tomorrow when a third message vibrated its way into his plans.

  **I’m sorry, I can leave you alone, I really can, if that’s what you need.  I just hate it.  I hate you not being here and I hate me not being there and I hate that I hurt you; I might’ve known I would but that doesn’t mean it’s ever what I wanted.  I’ll shut up now.  Goodnight, Steve.  Hope you’re somehow still sleeping.**  

After the third one, he forgot about replying, forgot about sleeping, just sat up and tugged his shoes on with his pajama pants and went down to the kitchen like that, in scraggly, worn plaid pants and a shirt Tony’d brought him back from CalTech.  If he knew Tony, he still hadn’t eaten.  He worked quickly and quietly, both to keep his presence from waking anyone else and to keep himself from second guessing the decision that had spurred him out of bed.  

He made a sandwich with the roasted turkey meat from Trader Joe’s he knew Tony loved, added two cheeses and the jalapeño ranch sauce Thor had recently become obsessed with.  Clint’s salt and cracked pepper chips were up over the refrigerator in a pitiful attempt to keep them out of Tony’s reach, and though Clint climbed up onto the cabinet and then the fridge to get them, Steve just reached.  It looked good when he was finished, good enough to make him hungry, but he ignored the growl of his stomach.  He remembered to feed himself on a fairly regular basis; Tony actually needed this. 

 The startled, half scrambling look in Tony’s eyes when he keyed his code in and came into the workshop was more endearing than anything else, and right then, he knew beyond all doubt that he’d made the right decision.  Forgiving Tony had always been a forgone conclusion.  He’d take all the pain and worry and stress and drama and anger that Tony brought him, now and for the rest of his life, and he’d take it gladly.  All those decision were already made; he was absolutely neck deep in all of this.  He loved Tony far too much, and seeing Tony look at him just then like he was some kind of apparition, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, not even a little.  After a lifetime filled with people like Howard Stark and Obadiah Stane, Tony deserved to have something that seemed an apparition prove itself real. 

 “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” 

 “Here.”  Steve settled the plate down on the one blank spot on the workbench he could find, always careful not to disrupt Tony’s work.  “I brought you dinner.  Sort of.  Late, late dinner.” 

 Tony reached for it without looking down, patting at the air until his fingers hit the bread of the sandwich and though his fingers closed around it, he didn’t pick it up.  “You didn’t have to, I-“

 “What the hell happened to your hand?”  Tony might not have been paying attention to his hands but Steve was, and the splash of seeping red that came from a gash across the webbing joining his thumb to the rest of his hand.

 Tony looked down, half dazed, like he wasn’t quite sure what the hell had happened.  “Oh, that.  It’s nothing, I was trying to get a panel off this thing here, it’s nothing, it’s…“

  Steve snagged Tony’s had between his, all instinct, and though he heard the way Tony’s breath sucked in sharply when he did, he was still caught up with the blood.  It didn’t look too terribly deep and he could probably get by without stitches, thought Steve would rather that be a call medical made.  

“Hold on a second.”  There was a sink against the back wall, and he cut it on to let the water warm while he shuffled around in the drawers he knew might have a clean rag.  The second drawer had one tucked under a spiral notebook, and he soaked it through with nearly hot water before going back to Tony.  That time he took Tony’s hand slowly, gentle as he wrapped one hand around Tony’s wrist and used it to pull him a little closer.  “Come here.  This won’t feel too good.” 

 For the time being he kept his eyes down and on his work, watched the bloody water flow in rivulets across his own fingers and tried his best to clean the wound as tenderly as possibly.  Tony’s tolerance for pain was high, too high in Steve’s opinion, but that knowledge just made him all the more conscious of the possibility for all kinds of pains Tony never spoke up about. 

 His muscles were tense and twitchy under his skin, and they’d barely made it five seconds before Tony cleared his throat. 

 “Why, ah…why are you…”

 “You’re hurt.  You should take better care of yourself, Tony.  It’s not that hard to just be careful.” 

 “Sorry.  Not so good at taking care of- well, most things, really, but hey, the shit I do take care of gets done so that’s gotta count for something, right?”  There was unnatural humor there, and unsteady tone to his voice and though he didn’t look, he could practically feel Tony wincing as he started over.  “It’s just, that self-preservation instinct we’re all supposed to have so much of, I don’t really have it.  Evolutionarily, I’d be a failure; I am an evolutionary failure so I guess it’s a good thing I can’t imagine I’ll ever have kids.” 

 Steve would’ve never thought it was possibly to meet a narcissist with this much self-hatred.  What that said about Tony(or about himself), he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to know.  Under his ministrations the cut was looking better, less a bloody mess and more defined, and he was running out of a reason to keep staring at his hands. 

 Well, that was alright; he had to reach that point somehow anyway. 

 “So-“

 The extensive mansion PA system cut on, JARVIS barely having time for a weak, “Sir-“ before Coulson’s voice took over.

 “Giant lizards on the Empire State building.  I need you all ready to go now.” 

  _Dammit_. 

 Tony took advantage of the distraction to pull his hand away, already heading off toward the suit and almost out of reach.  Steve only just caught his arm again, slowing him enough to make Tony look at him. 

 “We’ll talk after, ok?”

 “Yeah.  Ok.”  God, he looked so condemned that Steve almost told him right then, almost blurted out the highlights.  _I forgive you.  I love you.  It still hurts and I still hate this, but we’ll be ok, Tony, we really will._   If he started talking he wasn’t sure he could stop, and just then his city needed him.  This was personal, and it would have to wait.  He clenched his jaw against the desire, gave in and turned around to head toward his room and his gear. 

 

 

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

Most of the villains they fought never did anything halfway.  Sure, sometimes Loki did something stupid or they ran into some low level bad guy who’d gotten his greedy hands on a high level weapon, but for the most part they dealt with utter madness.  Kind of like the brand of madness that ensued when half a dozen speed enhanced, car sized panther chameleons climbed one of New York’s tallest buildings. 

 It was bad enough when they started; the things were impossibly to catch and they were kind of one man down because Bruce was still Bruce, on a nearby rooftop with Coulson as he scrounged up every secret bit of scientific data he could on the projects that might have spawned these creatures.  Steve wanted Bruce right where he was, both for Bruce’s sake and because they really did need as much information as they could get, still, he couldn’t help but think here and there that with creatures of that size, the Hulk might really come in handy. 

 Tony had flown Clint up to a precarious perch Clint had made even _more_ precarious, strapping himself to the chain link around the observation deck and hanging over to get better shots as the lizards came up.  Here and there he used exploding arrows, the fires busting out bright into the night, a red orange counterpoint to the white of Thor’s lightning and the blue burn of Tony’s repulsor blasts.  This was one battle where lacking the ability to fly really, really felt like the worst kind of detriment, and though he and Natasha were doing the best they could to keep themselves useful, he was getting increasingly frustrated.  Logan was still with them, but with his ability to dig in and hold on, lack of flight wasn’t quite as much of a problem. 

 “I count three still up here, Clint, you got a different count?”

 “Not sure about the last one that went down, Cap.  Looked like he might have caught his fall on the building enough to slow his way down.  We may need you and Tasha street level.”

 He snapped out his shield into a perfect arc, caught the lizard trying to make its way up over the fence right underneath the jaw.  The sound it made was somewhere between a roar and a chatter, only momentarily knocked off balance as its sticky feet found a new hold. 

 “Alright.  Thor, I need you up here covering Clint with Natasha, and if I can get a ride down-“

 “I’ll be there.”  Tony cut in over the coms, a little breathless in his rush to answer.  Steve hadn’t even thought how it might sound, hadn’t been about to ask for a ride from Thor at all.  Not that he wouldn’t have if the circumstances required it, but he’d flown with Tony from the beginning, never anyone else.  They moved together even in the air with a kind of seamless grace, and so long as he had any choice, that’s what he’d be choosing. 

 There was a growl to his right, and he turned to see Wolverine locked in a struggle, the tail of the creature Steve had whacked under the chin gripping onto him and trying to twist him from his hold.  He rushed the fence, the slam of his shield dislodging a foot and the lizard’s focus long enough for Logan to dig his claws, long enough, too, for Thor to sweep in on his way to the observation deck to catch him. 

 “Hey, how about a warning?  Fuckin’ hate flying.” 

 Steve heard Thor’s laughter, but any reply after that was lost on him.  Tony was sweeping in toward him, ready to snatch him up and get down to ground level, but his path took him right past that chameleon at the top, the one Steve had already thoroughly pissed off.  Its tongue shot out lightning fast, too fast for Steve to even call out a warning, and before he could even take a breath much less make a move Tony had been jerked on the end of a sticky tongue down into crushing jaws. 

 He screamed for Tony, utterly futile at that particular moment, and he and Logan and Natasha all seemed to dive forward as one.  Logan’s claws ripped through the chain link to rake across the thing’s throat in rapid succession, three times before the monster even gave a garbled cry.  Steve yanked himself up, kicking and climbing hard enough that his fingers ached, but he got his hand over the top and locked around Tony’s gauntlet, and when the creature fell (three arrows and two knives in his neck, and smoking from a lighting strike), he was able to hold on, to pull Tony back with all his strength.  He landed with a rush that knocked the wind out of him, the weight of Tony and the suit crashing down against his chest.  The city lights weaved around him for a minute but he pulled himself up by force of will, gasping and not caring a damn bit about his burning lungs as his fingers fumbled for the release on Tony’s faceplate. 

 “Cap?  What’s his status?”  Bruce’s voice carried all their worries, and over the coms Steve could hear the unnatural stillness of his whole team holding their breath. 

 He didn’t know yet, God, he didn’t know, and his fingers couldn’t find the damn catch, and he couldn’t afford to just think about Tony right now, couldn’t bear to do anything less. 

 “I’ve got him, I’ve got him, keep going, there’s still those two on the south side.  Natasha,-“

 “I’ll take it from here.”  He hadn’t realized how close she was behind him until he felt her hands on his shoulders, squeezing gently just before she disappeared and took command, rattling off a coordinated plan of attack between Thor and Clint that sounded like something he’d have gone for.  Natasha was incredible like that, the rock for all the team at any moment of crisis, though not at all due to any lack of feeling.  She had her own panic for Tony, he knew, but Tasha, she bled only on the inside.  If there ever came a time when he saw cracks in her surface, he’d do the best he could to sweep in and hold her up the way she did the rest of them but at that point, he’d be terrified for her. 

 Terror was probably a few shades below what he was feeling just then.  He finally hit his mark and the faceplate flipped open to show Tony’s eyes closed, his breathing shallow against Steve’s cheek when he dipped his head next to Tony’s to check.  It was so light against his skin that it seemed an utterly insubstantial thing, soft as moth’s wings and with little regularity which wasn’t all that surprising, because with his head turned like it was he was finally surveying the damage.  The suit had been made to hold up against a hell of a lot, but apparently, mutant lizard teeth were a different level of sharp.  There were jagged cuts in the perfect array of a bite all up and down Tony’s body, blood seeping out around twisted metal to the point where Steve wasn’t sure what had done more damage, the teeth themselves or the suit as they’d pushed in. 

 “God, I’ve got to get him out of here.” 

 “I’ve got help on the way, Captain.  The street’s clear; the two the team recently dropped didn’t make it.  You can take the express elevator down, the med team will meet you in the lobby.”  He hadn’t even been sure he’d spoken aloud but there Coulson was, always ready to cover their asses.  He scooped Tony up in his arms quick as he could, still trying to stay mindful of his injuries.  For just a second he thought he heard a whimper as he gathered him up, and he kept his cheek nuzzled next to Tony’s the whole ride down, Tony’s lips right against his ear so he could feel him breathe, maybe hear something, anything. 

 There was nothing, no further indication Tony might be awake even for a second but he talked to him anyway, his voice soft and less shaky than he’d have expect. 

 “It’s alright, Tony; you’re gonna be alright.  I promise; I’ve got you, you know I wouldn’t let you fall, you’ve never let me, right?  You always swoop in and…”  And snatch him away from whatever’s coming for him, every time, just like he’d been about to then.  His heart was racing, pounding hard enough that he felt just a little lightheaded, even more so when his body jerked as the realization of his heartbeat led him to Tony’s that he couldn’t feel, Tony’s that was tied to the arc reactor and oh God, oh God if it was damaged, even if they got him out of there it wouldn’t be enough, not unless they had a ready replacement. 

 It had still been bright enough in the dark on the roof, and when pulled his head far enough away from Tony’s neck to check it, it was still glowing strong, illuminating the twisted metal just to the right of it.  His tally of positives increased by one.  Tony was breathing, and the arc reactor was safe.  As long as those two things stayed true, he could make it. 

 When he reached the med team below, even faced with that whole herd full of equipment and a gurney to bear him away, Steve could hardly bring himself to let go.  Laying him down was physically painful, his muscles burning more at the sudden lack of weight than they had at carrying him, and he couldn’t resist snagging Tony’s hand just before they pulled him away, bending over him to press a kiss just below his ear. 

 “I’ll be with you soon.”  If his voice cracked, they graciously didn’t notice it. 

 All the way back up the elevator he couldn’t help but think that this was the part, the _only_ part he hated about all of this.  He was their Captain; he couldn’t leave them in a fight.  Not even if it meant leaving the man he loved to deal with a fight of his own all alone. 

 Just before he reached the top he punched the wall, his first jerking through layers to expose metal.  By the time he stepped out onto the observation deck, he was as ready as he could possibly get, gripping his shield so tight it hurt and glad that in the dark, he mostly couldn’t see Tony’s blood on his hands. 

 

 

 

 ‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

“You made the paper.”  

Clint’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, toned down in deference to Tony’s drugged sleep and Steve’s exhaustion.  He’d made it back to SHIELD medical in pretty much record time after the conclusion of last night’s disaster, had barged in only to hear that Tony had internal damage, was in surgery, and no, he couldn’t see him yet.  He’d have to wait. 

 Steve wasn’t very good at waiting. 

 He’d paced the hallway, as close to the doors leading to the operating rooms as he possibly could before he could tell he was making the agent stationed outside the doors anxious.  At that point he’d wandered out of the medical part of the compound entirely, found his way to the tiny chapel for all faiths they had upstairs and had tried to pray, succeeded for a time before a woman came in and he got distracted by his own thoughts, his mind full of too much anger.  Most days, he found it easy to see the best in people, to at least hope for the best in them, but with Tony on the table and too much unresolved between them, he couldn’t really see the best in anything. 

 The woman was probably utterly innocent, probably a great person, but she reminded him that if the world had known about him and Tony like he wished they did, a good half of them would’ve questioned his right to pray for Tony when everything about the two of them was condemned.  There were plenty of preachers out there that would’ve told him God wouldn’t hear him, not for Tony’s sake, not as his lover, and even though there were plenty of others that would’ve accepted them, that believed in God the way Steve did, the way he always had.  It was that he usually chose to dwell, but at that moment he just couldn’t.  He felt raw and frustrated and helpless, inches away from lashing out, and he took back to the halls again. 

 The team seemed to veer back and forth between rapid fire texts and trying to give him a little space and he loved them for it, just like he loved knowing without ever having looked that they were all camped out in the room they’d been told Tony would be taken to.  They’d sit and wait for his return when they were all battered, all starving and exhausted, and in the end even though he’d almost resumed his pacing vigil, Steve’s trek through the labyrinth of halls had eventually led him there.  If he was going to wait in misery, he might as well do it among friends.  When he got there Pepper had already made it too, had stripped off her high heels and was pacing the room in a near perfect square, fielding calls and texts from Rhodey on a frequent basis. 

 By the time Tony was brought in Jane had joined them and Thor was asleep with his head in her lap.  Bruce had nodded off too, head propped on arms that rested on his knees.  They both jerked awake at the sound of wheels in the hallway, and Steve was right there to meet the nurses at the door. 

 He’d made it through alright, they’d patched up and he should be fine, shouldn’t be too long before he was back to normal.  Considering the source of the bite he’d be on heavy duty antibiotics for a while too, just in case.  There was more, details about stitches and how his chest was going to hurt like a bitch but he needed to be careful with the morphine drip and he shouldn’t drink until he was off of it, but all of those were details Steve mostly picked up later.  Initially, he didn’t much beyond “He made it through surgery alright.”. 

 From there, he’d settled in to wait until Tony woke up.  So far, it had been a long stretch of coffee and exhaustion, only broken when Coulson had finally stood up and gently herded the team back the mansion for rest and now, when Clint had come back. 

 He reached out to scoop up the paper Clint had tossed lightly onto Tony’s dinner tray, and his eyes caught on the headline before the picture, stamped out in startlingly huge black type. 

 

 

 

  **Proof of an illicit relationship between Iron Man and Captain America!**

Then, in smaller type below-

 

 

 

  **We bring you the exclusive interview with an Avengers insider who claims he’s known America’s most clean cut hero wasn’t quite so clean**

 Disgusted, Steve spun the paper out of his hand to flutter and crash into the wall, dissolving into pieces.  If Tony hadn’t been sleeping, the chair he’d been sitting in would’ve followed it. 

 “You know, I _wish_ this was unbelievable, I really do.  He nearly-“  He choked on the words, took a look at the steady rise and fall of Tony’s chest before he could continue. “He nearly _dies_ saving them, and _this_ is what makes the headlines?  Me leaning over to kiss him before they take him away?  _Christ_.  What the hell is wrong with these people?!” 

 “I know, Cap.  It’s shit, I know it’s shit, but in some way or other the papers have always been this way, you know?  I mean, we bust our ass to save _their_ asses, to protect their right to verbally rip us apart.  It’s…fucked, but it is what it is.”  Clint folded himself into the other, more rickety chair, crouched on the seat in a way that could only be comfortable to someone who spent too many hours in far more uncomfortable places.  “Sleeping Beauty crack an eye?” 

 “No.  Not yet.”  At the base of the wall Steve could still the picture, a distanced image of himself bending over Tony, promising him he’d be back soon.  It was private, _so_ completely private, and despite the fact that it shouldn’t have been making headlines, something so personal shouldn’t have been printed at all.  It was wrong, too intrusive.  Even if they _were_ superheroes, whatever happened to a little basic respect? 

 “Hey.  Steve.”  He blinked, let Clint pull his focus back.  “It’s ok, man.  I get it.  The rest of us are pissed too.  Thor offered to track the guy down and bash his camera but I’m not sure that’d do any good.  Natasha’s thinking of encouraging it anyway.  Coulson’s gonna handle the media like he always does, says he can get it under control if you want, or…”

 Or tell everyone.  Have it out in the open, no more secrets.  If the world wanted to hate him for it, they could hate _him_ personally, or maybe, just maybe it might make a few people take a step back.  He took Tony’s hand between his, careful of the IV stuck in the back of it.  Those things hurt, he remembered; he’d had too many of them as a kid.  Between Tony’s thumb and his hand the cut he’d started to care for was still there, now scrubbed clean by the nurses.  He stroked the edges of it absently, and he wished he’d been the one to finish taking care of that, taking care of Tony.  Time constraints aside, he wished that right then, he’d have told everything. 

 “No.” 

 “No?”  There was something blatantly hopeful in Clint’s voice, and that just firmed his decision up all the more. 

 “No.  I’m not sorry.  I’m not sorry, and I’m not ashamed, and if they want to make something out of me saying goodbye to him after what had just happened on that roof, then I really don’t care what they think of me.”  He’d said it all in one breath, rushing through with his eyes still on Tony’s hand that looked so fragile and white between his.  “I mean, unless Fury…unless he’s got a problem with it, but I don’t see how  he possibly could.  Don’t Ask Don’t Tell was repealed.  There’s no rules hanging over me now; not that they’ve told me anyway.”  Not like there was before, when he’d felt a hundred things for Bucky and never spoken a damn word, hardly even let himself think most of them until it was too late. 

 “Hey, Cap?”

 “Hm?”

 “Have I ever told you it’s a fucking honor, serving under you in this whole crazy mess?”  

He couldn’t help but laugh at that, just a little, because it was enough to bring a smile to his face and he hadn’t smiled in hours.  Clint was still crouched in the opposite chair, something so warm in his eyes when Steve looked up that he realized all over again just how lucky he was that he’d ended up in this time, found these people. 

 “It’s an honor to serve with you, Barton.  It absolutely is.”  In all his preoccupation with Tony and the paper and everything else, he’d almost forgotten Clint had a stake in the issue just as deep as his, and though he was pretty sure by the fact that Logan hadn’t left(not to mention the easiness Clint had had about him as they’d fought together) that everything had turned out alright, he still wanted to say something.  He wasn’t sure how much he could say, but all the same he wanted Clint to know he cared how he was, that this was something they could talk about if he ever needed.  “I ran into Logan at a bar the other night.”

 Clint’s smile couldn’t have been brighter, and yeah, yeah things were definitely ok between them.  “Yeah, he told me.  Hope he didn’t give you too much of a hard time.” 

 “He’s a good man.”  

“Ah, he’s an asshole, but yeah, he’s a good man too.”  Clint stood up in the chair, stretching easily before he hopped down and reached over to ruffle Tony’s hair.  “Let him know we’re worried about him.  Call home if anything changes, ok?  Bruce’ll be by next to check on you guys.” 

 They had a schedule, an actual schedule for checking on the two of them, and even to someone like Clint who’d spent his whole life moving around the mansion was home…somehow, they were making this whole family thing work spectacularly well, despite how much it had seemed in the beginning they might never mesh together at all.  

“Alright, I will.  Thanks, Clint.” 

With Clint gone, he might need to go for another cup of coffee.  

 

 

 

‘’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’’

The minute Tony’s eyes opened, Steve came so far forward to lean against the rail he was nearly off his chair.  

“Tony, hey, Tony, look at me.  Do you want me to call the nurse?  They said you might need-“ 

Tony licked his cracked lips, and Steve shut up to give him the space to talk.  “You draw the short straw, Cap?”  

Even as rough as his voice was he could hear the deliberate lightness to it, Tony doing his best not to hope.  It jabbed at Steve’s heart, scraping at the edges of leftover hurt from everything that had happened with the girl.  It was still there, still twinging if he thought about it, but all the time it dwindled. 

 Steve reached over for the cup of ice he’d kept periodically refilling, bypassed the spoon and scooped a few onto his fingers. 

 “Here.  You might have an IV, but you still need water.  And no, that’s not why I’m here.”  He held his fingers to Tony’s lips, grateful that he took it even if it was tentative.  The flick of his tongue against Steve’s fingers was so light, so unlike Tony’s usual deliberation with him.  Even light, the heat it sparked under his skin still danced its way all through his body, a wonderfully familiar spread of warmth. 

 “You really are the most devoted mother hen I’ve ever seen.  Seriously, most devoted mother _anything_ ; I don’t even think a grizzly has one up on you.”  The scratch in his throat had to hurt, and Steve made a note in his head that after the talked, he needed to call the nurse for some hot tea.  Well, maybe coffee.  Tony would be desperate for coffee.  Still, a _fter_. 

 “A compliment, though I’ve seen a mother horse that could probably give a grizzly a run for its money, but _also_ not why I’m here.”  He dug some more ice chips out of the Dixie cup, easing them into Tony’s mouth and wiping a droplet off his lip with his thumb.  “I’m here because there’s no way I could stand to be anywhere else.  Not if I can help it; not when you’re here and you need me.” 

 “I’m fine; I’ve-“

 “No, don’t tell me you’ve had worse and don’t tell me you’re fine; I didn’t say that to imply you’re a burden, Tony.  You’re not.  I just mean that…”  _That I love you, irrationally, probably insanely, but that doesn’t exactly matter because what does is that I really, really love you._

 Tony was carefully studying the fraying blanket pulled up against his chest, and Steve used the pause he was trying to collect his thoughts in to reach out and snag Tony’s hand.  It didn’t exactly help with the thought collecting, but it did make him feel better. 

 “I’m not saying I’m not hurt; I’m not even saying I understand all the way because I really don’t.  If there was something about us bothering you, something about it that set you on edge I don’t know why you didn’t think you could come to me; you can.  But the point is, I’m hurt, and yeah I was mad, of course I was mad; I still am.  Neither of those things have anything to do with the fact that I love you.  And when it comes right down to it, that one’s more important.  So if you tell me you made a mistake, if you tell me you didn’t mean this and you want it to be me and you, then I’ll do everything I can to believe you.  I may not be great at it today or tomorrow or for God knows how long, but I can tell you I’m trying to trust that, to put that faith in you.  But if we’re going to do this-and I’m telling you, I absolutely want to-then you’re got to put faith in me too, Tony.  You’ve got to stop waiting for me to run out on you, planning what your life is gonna be like when I disappear.  I’m not going to disappear, and if this is going to work, you’ve got to stop pushing me away.  Cause that?  That’s the only thing I can’t do anything about.  I can handle the rest; I know you think you’re a wreck, but I’m actually not all that put together myself.  But if you won’t let me in, then there’s nothing I can do.  Everything’s up to you.” 

 Tony’s eyes were nearly shut, and even though he was clearly fighting it by the way they hadn’t yet fallen, Steve could see the heaviness of tears lingering at the bottom of them.  Steve gave him time, and he managed to rein it back in, his throat working as he swallowed until he could get himself pulled together.  He didn’t have to, God he absolutely didn’t have to, but he knew Tony well enough to know that to him, it would’ve been a loss in the near constant battle with himself if he shed tears now. 

 “Yeah, I can do that.  I want that, with you, I…I’m not good at this, Steve, I’m horrible at it, but believe it or not I am trying my best and-“ 

“I know that, Tony, I do.”

 “-I’ll get better; I get better at everything.  Well, most everything.  Sometimes hey, talent’s talent, what can I say, but for the most part, I’m all for improvements, revisions…I can do that.  I can try.  I can…”  His voice had been something close to confidant at first, so hopeful it rode that into a little extra strength but the more he talked, the weaker it got.  “It’s just, I don’t have illusions about what I am.  Damaged doesn’t even begin to describe it, I’m reassembled, literally, and I mean carrying that metaphor a little farther, the pieces weren’t that great to begin with.  I’ve already dragged Pepper down with me; I think at this point she’s beyond help, but you’re not, and I can’t help but think-“

 “ _Tony_.”  He squeezed the hand he held just a little harder than he normally would have, drew Tony’s focus as he twined their fingers together and tugged that hand to his lips to press a kiss against the cut from the workshop.  “I’m not going anywhere.  Not unless you want me to.”

 “Fuck no.”  It came out hoarse, eager and a little desperate, and Steve’s lips lingered on his skin. 

 “Good.”  He shifted his grip, left another soft kiss just where the IV catheter disappeared under Tony’s skin.  He loved Tony’s hands.  “So…some reporter down on the street for last night’s disaster took a picture of me with you before they took you away, so now we’re front page news.  And I kind of told Clint to tell Coulson not to try to control it.” 

 “Kind of?”

 “Alright, nothing ambiguous about it; I did.  I’ve been around you and your answers for too long.”  He tried for light but there was a tightness in his chest that wouldn’t settle until Tony answered, an uncertainty he’d had since not too long after Clint had left.  He’d told Clint he didn’t care what they knew and that was true, he didn’t.  Before, though, it had always been Tony hiding it so carefully, always Tony who was adamant they couldn’t tell and while it had always felt like a move to protect him and his image and that was what Tony had said, the more he thought about it the more he realized that wasn’t a choice he should’ve made alone.  “I’m sorry I didn’t ask you, I was just so angry; they were talking about how we had this illicit relationship, like it was some horrible catastrophe when the thing they should’ve noticed was how badly you were hurt.  I couldn’t stand it.”  Still couldn’t, really.  The first reporter to ask him about it and use the word ‘illicit’ was going to get an earful. 

 “Pepper’s gonna kill me for not warning her.  God, don’t tell her I’m awake yet; tell her I’m in a coma.  For like, five years.  That should give her enough time.”  He was smiling, almost laughing but he drew up short from that, wincing,  “Shit, this hurts, everything hurts; I can’t believe I nearly got eaten by a lizard.  I’m never going to live this down, am I?”  Nowhere in there had he answered, not a single word about how _he_ felt about them being out, and he must’ve been able to read Steve’s worry in his eyes because he pulled the ramble up short.  “Hey, it’s ok.  It’s really ok.  I was never worried about me.  They’ve had pictures of me in a thousand worse positions, trust me; shots of me doing all kinds of things I regretted.  You, there’s nothing there to regret so it’s not like I even feel like they’ve ‘got’ something on me; I mean please, this isn’t news, you’re right, this _shouldn’t_ be news.  But the thing is, I’m already pretty much the guy you don’t necessarily want your kid to grow up to be; I may be successful but a lot of my fuck ups have been pretty public.  I may be Iron Man, and they love me for it, but it’s not like I’m a shining example of morality.  You, on the other hand, are pretty much literally the embodiment of America, and I’m pretty sure the thought of you fucking anyone, much less me, isn’t gonna go over well, and most of that’s gonna come down on you.  But if it’s bothering you-“

 Yes, it was.

 “-and this is something you want-“

 More than anything, yes. 

 “-then alright, yes.  Let ‘em try to come after us.  You know, the mindfuck of all of this might actually be good for people, though be prepared for some nasty shit.  A good majority of those  below the Mason-Dixon line are probably burning their Captain America hoodies right now.” 

He couldn’t say that didn’t hurt him, couldn’t say that there probably wouldn’t be a hell of a lot more in the coming days that would hurt him even more, but none of that would ever mean that he regretted it.  He’d meant what he said to Clint; he was ashamed of Tony, and he wasn’t about to start being ashamed of him just because some close minded people couldn’t accept what the two of them had.  He was from the 40’s for God’s sakes; if he could accept everyone, so could they.  Granted, he’d always known he had that potential for attraction to men in himself so he’d had a leg up there, but all the same, even if he _hadn’t_ known how it felt, he would’ve never spoke a word of condemnation to those that did.  It just wasn’t how he’d been raised, wasn’t what he’d grown up believing.  He believed in a God that loved the world he’d created and in a country that set out to make itself a safe haven for the harassed and hunted.  Neither of those values fit with the way so many people who claimed adherence to both continued to behave. 

 His lips shifted to Tony’s knuckles, all his attention on the bruises there until he realized Tony was still quiet, maybe still waiting for an answer or maybe just tired, but he looked up to find Tony watching him, a real smile on his face that reached all the way to his eyes.  That was Steve’s favorite, the smile most paparazzi had never been able to capture even if they snagged his picture a hundred times.  It was beautiful and all too rare and Steve loved searching it out. 

 “So…”

 “Yeah?”

 “We’re really ok?”

 “We will be, yeah.”  There were still images he was trying to shake, still worries, still doubts but those would fade.  The more important things, they wouldn’t. 

 “Then come here.”  He used Steve’s grip on his hand to lead him up out of his chair, in closer where Tony could use his free hand to cup Steve’s jaw and pull him in for a kiss.  Tony’s lips were still so dry, rough and probably painful but he was as eager as ever, and though for a single heartbeat Steve wondered if he’d kissed _her_ too, the slide of his tongue into Tony’s mouth brushed it all defiantly away.  Tony whimpered like he’d been starved for Steve’s taste, slid his hand down to Steve’s neck where he could get a proper grip, his nails digging into Steve’s skin with a bite that only served to pump arousal through him.  Alcohol he might have resistance too, and sure, he might never be able to get much use out of pain meds again, but Tony, _he_ was a drug with a rush that could bring Steve to his knees. 

 He shifted the kiss, let Tony gasp for air against his lips for a second before slanting his mouth back over Tony’s, shifting their angle to get him just a little deeper.  He could never have enough of Tony’s tongue against his, of the ache of desire that came with it or the way Tony melted toward him, drawn by Steve’s kiss like he couldn’t help himself. 

 He wanted it to go on, to plunder Tony’s mouth until the sounds he made were so desperate Steve couldn’t deny him, couldn’t deny them _both_.  He wanted to take Tony right there, to cover Tony’s body with his own like he hadn’t been able to when Tony needed him and take care of him in at least one way that he could, to make him feel and let him rest after.  He wanted at least to pull the covers down and take Tony into his mouth, to take in the concentrated taste that was just Tony and feel those talented hands rhythmically gripping at his hair as Tony moaned and struggled against the urge to thrust into the wet heat of his mouth.  He wasn’t very good at it yet, he didn’t think.  Nothing like Tony, and he blushed still, he knew, but Tony fell apart for him when he did it, babbling and crying out his name and coming so hard he shook.  Since all of that was the point anyway, he must’ve been doing something right. 

 He wanted all of it, and he couldn’t have any of it.  Tony had stiches and staples and freshly bound up internal injuries, and even if Tony would’ve protested that a blowjob was light enough or that more making out wouldn’t kill him, Steve couldn’t justify it to himself, not when he knew he was too biased by the press of his own cock against his jeans. 

 Pulling back was horribly hard, and he tempered it with a last light kiss against Tony’s damp lips. 

 “I have to call your doctor.  She needs to come back and look you over now that you’re awake.”

 “You can do it for her.  I suggest you be thorough.” 

 He chuckled, breath brushing Tony’s skin as he kissed the edge of his beard.  “And the team.  They’re worried sick about you.” 

 “Send them a text; they’ll live.  Besides, I told you, we’re not telling Pepper I’m up.  She’ll kill me, and isn’t that kind of the opposite of what you want right now?”

 “Not funny, Tony.”

 “I beg to differ, mortal peril is always funny.  You need a better outlook.  But hey, that reminds me, thank you for carrying my ass out of there, after the um, lizard bite.  God, there’s literally no way that will ever cease to sound ridiculous.  Unless we deal with something more ridiculous, in which case we should seriously reevaluate this job.”

 “Don’t thank me for that.”  The kiss he stole then absolutely _had_ to be the last, because the pull to just find a way to fit beside him in that bed was getting more irresistible by the minute.  “But let me go, ok?  I’ll be right back.  Just gonna go find a nurse.”

 After the nurse and the doctor, after Steve had called back home to let everyone know Tony was awake and talking and absolutely himself, Tony fell back into an exhausted sleep.  He hadn’t even stayed awake long enough to eat, of course, but that was alright, because Steve would be there to remind him when he woke up.  After some maneuvering and creative chord shifting, Steve managed to slide in bed beside him, loosened the covers to drape over both of them.  He almost looped his arm around Tony’s waist before he remembered just now much everything hurt, and he settled instead for letting his hand rest on the arc reactor, the weight of his arm not pressing on any major wounds.  In his sleep Tony sighed, easy and content, and when his head instinctively turned left Steve kissed him, light enough that he wouldn’t wake him. 

 “Goodnight, Tony.”  Closing his eyes, he fell asleep to the beep of the monitors. 


End file.
